


Not your Average Joe, I Guess.

by Zaeli_Echo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adam is NOT a Winchester, Adam is Not Forgotten, Adam is a Harvelle, All the 'winged dicks' are sirens, Alternate Universe - Angels are Merfolk/Sirens, But he rarely tells the whole truth, But not the ones in the canon, Castiel aims to fix that, Castiel never lies, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Dean is suspicious, Don't lie kids, Emotional Constipation, Good Parent John Winchester, Good Parent Mary Winchester, Mary's alive, Multi, Raphael is a dick., Sam is trusting, Sea-sirens, Siren Castiel, Siren Gabriel, Siren Lucifer, Siren Michael, Sirens, Slow Build, Slow Burn, So John Winchester actually has A+ Parenting skills, The archangels and Anna are good big siblings, but sirens get a bad rap, except Raphael., like merpeople, lying is bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaeli_Echo/pseuds/Zaeli_Echo
Summary: "Honestly? Castiel didn’t know what possessed him to venture topside. Sirens like him were supposed to protect the reefs and to conjure currents to direct ships into safer waters and to occasionally whip up a powerful storm to stir the waters and dredge up nutrients for the corals and fish. Never were they meant to surface."~Merfolk and Sirens have gotten a bad rap from all the old sailor's tales.Humans have gotten a bad rap from all their fear, which was created by old sailor's tales.It's an annoying cycle.Castiel wants to see if Humans are as bad as the stories say.





	1. Pilot

Honestly? Castiel didn’t know what possessed him to venture topside. Sirens like him were supposed to protect the reefs and to conjure currents to direct ships into safer waters and to occasionally whip up a powerful storm to stir the waters and dredge up nutrients for the corals and fish. Never were they meant to surface.

Castiel couldn’t fathom why.

His body reacted to it like any ship-guide or guardian, expelling the water in his lungs and sealing his gills so that he could fill them with the warm surface oxygen. He gasped in another lungful as his eyes adjusted and a sky the color of damselfish extended forever in every direction. A dark menacing thunderhead was building in the west, and just before it, Castiel could see the dark shape of a rogue schooner scudding over the waves in an attempt to escape it. He drifted, tail churning periodically to keep his head and shoulders above the waves.

Castiel didn’t even register the schooner approaching until the bow waves washed into him.

He panicked, latching onto an anchor chain as the rough wood of the hull churned past, barely managing to keep ahead of the storm.

He didn’t know why, but he hauled himself up until his long tail was fully out of the water and shrinking into a pair of long strong legs. Castiel draped his arms over the deck rail, a long silky cloth the same pattern as his tail tied around his waist. He watched as the sailors on deck scrambled about, tightening ropes and checking knots and maintaining the sails. They were so busy and focused that they didn’t even notice the curious siren observing them.

Of course they wouldn’t know he was a siren even if they did spot him. He looked like a drenched, rather bedraggled-looking boy with hair that poked up every which way and eyes the color of the currents.

Hopefully they wouldn’t be hostile to the half-drowned-looking boy draped over the rail.

As soon as the thought occurred to him, Castiel let go of the railing and slid down to the top of the anchor-chain. He might look a little more helpless if they found him there.

No sooner had he rested his forehead against the barnacle-covered hull than a low voice called:

    “Man overboard! Sam! Dean! Get a coil and hitch it to the rail.” A commanding voice shouted over the roar of the storm as it advanced.

With the sailors thoroughly distracted, Castiel whistled low, under the pitch of the waves. At his command, a powerful current of wind spiraled into existence, the sails of the schooner snapping as they were filled with the current, the entire ship shuddering as it quickly picked up speed and raced out of reach of the punishing storm.

A rope slapped the hull next to Castiel and a pair of feet came into view at about eye-level next to him.

Startled, Castiel forgot all about his ruse of helpless drowned-rat and proceeded to streak up the hull, fingers finding crannies and handholds as he heaved himself over the guardrail and flopped onto his back on the deck.

He opened his eyes, chest heaving as he recovered from his frenzied scramble. What he saw made him freeze.

He was surrounded by a circle of men and women, all of them watching him with a range of expressions from curious to baffled to expression _ less _ to calculating.

    “Dean, you can come on up. I don’t think he needs the rope.” A blonde girl with gold-brown eyes called over the rail, accompanied by a scuffing sound as the boy who had gone down to “help” Castiel pulled himself up and onto the deck, hopping over the guardrail with practiced ease and landing lightly on his feet.

    “ _ Did you see him come up, Dean? He didn’t use his feet at all. That takes strength _ .” Someone murmured to the dark-blonde boy who was untying the rope. Castiel wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for his species. He could hear a heartbeat from a mile away if he tried.

    “Yeah, I saw it. I… may have tried to do that with the rope. That’s why it took me so long to get up.” The blonde muttered back, looping the rope around his shoulder and tying it off.

    “You got a name, boy?” A gruff voice sounded from the circle still surrounding Castiel.

He nodded timidly. He was okay if he was watching, unobserved by humans, but under their scrutiny, he found himself quite timid.

    “Don’t be frightened. We’re not gonna hurt you. What’s your name?” A tall boy with long hair that was plastered to the sides of his head by the rain crouched next to Castiel. His voice Castiel recognized as the one who had been talking to Dean about Castiel’s frenzied scramble up the hull.

    “Cast-- Cas. My name is Cas.” Castiel said quietly, deciding to opt for a more human-sounding version of his name.

    “Welcome aboard, Cas. My name is Sam. This is my brother Dean,” He gestured to the blonde boy who had just come back from stowing the rope. “This is Jo,” The girl with the long blonde hair. “That’s Ellen, Bobby, and my parents, John and Mary.” Sam pointed to each member of the circle in turn until he pointed out his parents, who were side-by-side at the helm, looking rather baffled at their sudden (literal) winds in their sails. Nobody else had seemed to notice the sudden change.

    “What were you doing out here right before a storm, Cas?” The woman Sam had introduced as Ellen asked, hands on her hips and face creased in concern.

    “I - uhm - I woke up on an outcropping two clicks west of here. It’s possible that this was one of my brother’s pranks. He knows I’m a strong swimmer, but I don’t think he knew about the storm.” It was probably best that the crew thought he was human. From what he had heard, most sailors would kill a siren on sight out of fear. Castiel’s race had sort of gotten a bad rap from old seaman’s tales and fairy stories.

    “Two clicks? You  _ are  _ a strong swimmer. That’s a long way to swim.” Jo commented, flicking her soaking braid over her shoulder.

Castiel noticed the sailors’ discomfort of the torrential rain and gave another low whistle, sending the rain to the center of the storm. It moved away quickly, turning to drizzle in a matter of seconds before dissipating into thin wispy fog. Thankfully, nobody had noticed the siren’s command as they murmured quiet comments about how glad they were that the rain had let up.

    “Here Cas, why don’t you come with me so you can dry off. You’re just as soaked as the rest of us, if not more.” Sam held out a hand to help Castiel to his feet.

He took it, and almost immediately regretted it.

Castiel had never surfaced before, and thus had never attempted to walk. He found out then that it was  _ very  _ different that swimming. He leaned heavily on the taller boy as he struggled to balance his weight on his two new appendages.

    “Easy now. Still trying to get your legs under you after such a long swim, huh?” Sam asked, holding Castiel up easily as the smaller boy slowly shifted back onto his own feet, wobbling slightly. Sam stepped back and allowed Castiel to try to stand on his own.

He was steady for a moment, before he tried to take a step and fell sideways into a solid wall of muscle.

    “You may want Sammy to help you walk until you get the handle of it.” A pair of strong hands gripped his shoulders and placed him back on his feet.

Castiel glanced up and found himself face-to-face with Sam’s brother, Dean. The older boy’s green eyes gleamed with amusement.

    “Oh, come on, Dean. You could help too, you know.” Sam scoffed, elbowing his brother.

Dean rolled his eyes, breaking eye contact with Cas.

    “You’re better with people. I tend to be a bit…  _ rough _ .” Dean laughed, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly.

    “Oh my  _ gawd _ , Dean. You’re so immature.” Sam squawked, shoving his brother playfully. Dean shoved him back, but Sam let himself fall and pulled his brother down with him. They collapsed into a tangle of wrestling limbs on the deck, laughing and shouting.

Castiel took a couple timid steps toward them.

    “Sam? Dean? Are you two done?” A voice with the same note of command that Cas had heard earlier asked, freezing the boys mid-wrestling-match. They scrambled to their feet, smiling sheepishly.

    “Sorry Mom.” Sam scuffed at the deck with one foot.

Castiel looked up, finding himself staring. Mary - as Sam had introduced her - was not very tall, but exuded an air of power that could only come from years of playing a high-ranking role. Her wavy blonde hair was cropped at her jawline and her blue eyes blazed.

    “Why don’t you two put your energy to helping Cas instead of rolling around on the deck like children.” John stood at her shoulder, also radiating command.

Sam and Dean grinned sheepishly at Castiel, each walking over and setting a hand on his shoulders.

    “Sorry Cas. Follow us. Mom and Dad will hash out where you’re sleeping tonight.” Dean led Cas towards a door in the wall below the sterncastle deck.

Stairs were an experience. Cas fell multiple times before he got the hang of it.

    “Here. These are mine, so they may be a little bit too big, but it’s better than being barechested in a storm.” Dean handed Castiel a soft shirt with an inch or two of lace-up split at the throat. Cas opted not to mess with that, so he left it be. The other article of clothing was a pair of equally soft and worn-in slacks that bunched up around his ankles. “You may wanna roll the pants up to like mid-shin length so that you don’t walk on the cuffs.”

Cas, not even thinking about how humans bend, folded himself over and rolled them up as Dean instructed. When he straightened, both brothers were staring at him, slack-jawed.

    “What? Did I do something wrong?” Cas worried, popping his knuckles absentmindedly - a nervous habit he had developed over the years.

    “No, you’re fine. You just surprised us is all. People that flexible aren’t exactly common.” Sam explained, Dean still silent and stock-still.

    “Oh. I’m not your average Joe, I guess.” Castiel tried out a human phrase he had heard Gabriel use once, after a scouting adventure on dry land.

_ And by the Sea-mother is that an understatement. _ He thought to himself wryly.

Sam nodded, an expression of assent splayed across his features.

    “If you don’t mind me asking, where’d you get this?” Sam gestured at the length of cloth Castiel was now holding in his hand.

Castiel held it out, allowing the brothers to run their hands across it.

    “It’s a… Let’s call it a family crest, of sorts. Everyone in my family bears their own that they make. This one is mine.”

    “Wow. It’s  _ really _ soft. Like liquid satin, almost. Except smoother. It feels like water.” Dean commented, fascinated by the length of ‘fabric’.

Castiel smiled to himself. A secret smile. One that just looks like a reaction to a memory.

Sam seems to notice it, and narrows his eyes a small amount, calculating. Castiel can see the gears whirring in the taller brother’s mind. He’s smart, but no-one knows of Castiel’s species. Not for certain. Cas is fairly sure that his secret is safe.

    “That was my intention when I made it. I always felt home in the water, so I wanted a way to take it with me.” Castiel was proud of himself. Dancing around the truth, never quite lying. He had always liked the idea of venturing topside and mingling among the humans, and had sort of planned out responses to any prying question that may be directed at him. Never lies, but never enough to expose his secret.

    “Do you sail? Your gait matches a seafarer’s life. Nice and rolling now that you’ve got your feet under you.” Dean commented.

Castiel pondered a response to that for a moment.

    “I do. Like I said, I feel at home at sea.” Short and sweet. Nice and believable.

Dean nodded, before pulling Sam aside, muttering in his ear.

    “ _ Are you sure we should be so open with him? I don’t know if he is what he says he is. I know almost everyone around here, and I’ve never seen anyone who looks even similar to him. That cloth doesn’t feel normal either. _ ”

Apparently not as believable as he thought.

    “My family only recently moved to the area, but we like to fly under the radar. We’re not exactly most people’s idea of normal neighbors.” Castiel commented, forgetting that humans can’t hear as well as he can.

Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother, a half-smile quirking his lips as he glanced at Castiel.

    “Don’t mind Dean. He’s always been sorta suspicious of anyone he doesn’t know and anyone who isn’t immediately groveling at his feet. He has this power complex, see--” The taller brother teased before being cut off by a punch to the shoulder. “Ouch, Dean. I was apologizing for your rudeness.”

    “With rudeness.” Fired back the older of the two, scowling. “How can you hear so well?” This question was a little sharper.

Castiel shrugged, playing with his ‘cloth’.

    “Like I said, not your average Joe.” Castiel replied, injecting a mysterious lilt into his voice, knowing he was yanking the taller boy’s chain.

Dean’s scowl deepened and he took a step forward.

    “Let go of your anger, my prince. Forget your rage, for you have no right to be angry at me.” Castiel quoted an old sailor’s song, infusing a lure-song into the melody.

Now, lure-songs aren’t just to draw people in. Their original purpose was to influence the mind, but ‘influence-songs’ just wasn’t as catchy.

Immediately, all stiffness drained from Dean’s figure, his shoulders relaxing and his fists uncurling.

    “Sorry about that, Cas. I shouldn’t get angry at you. I’m just not comfortable around you yet.” The taller boy ran a hand down his face, an exhausted look marring his chiseled features.

Cas pretended not to notice Sam gawping at him, looking like one of the invasive lionfish that patrolled the reefs. Slack-jawed and confused.

    “I understand, Dean. I hold no grudges or judgement against you. You are forgiven.” Without thought, Castiel relayed the acceptance speech that all sirens are taught before they earn their patterns.

Sam closed his mouth and cleared his throat quietly.

    “Mom and Dad probably want to meet you formally. Why don’t you follow me.” He turned and walked up the stairs, his long legs easily taking him two at a time. Castiel followed, Dean trailing behind him, a confused look falling over his face.

Sam led Cas up the stairs, out onto the main deck, and up to the sterncastle deck, where Mary was manning the helm and John was pouring over a map spread out on top of a crate.

    “Mom, Dad. This is Cas. I know you met him before, but I figured you would want a formal introduction.

Cas dipped his head in a sort of half-bow saved for powerful figures in the siren world.

    “Oh, there’s no need for that. We’re glad to have you aboard, Cas. Welcome to our scurvy crew. This ship is called the Impala, but we like to refer to her as Baby. She’s kept us safe many a long night.” Mary laughed, glancing over her shoulder as she adjusted the helm. Castiel noticed that now they were out of reach of the storm, the wind he had called still filled the sails, and they would have to draw sail to lose enough momentum to dock safely. Castiel snapped, commanding the wind to draw back slowly enough to not raise suspicion.

Immediately, the sails quit snapping, the powerful wind losing intensity.

    “Look at that, John. I was just about to call draw sails, and the wind calms down. What kinda luck is that?” Mary laughed to her husband, who was still pouring over his maps.

John just hummed in response.

Castiel, feeling like he may need to have two free hands before too long, folded his cloth into a square and tied it around his head, tucking the tail down the back.

As his hands fell from tying a simple square knot, Castiel noticed an irregular wave pattern that would be indiscernible to most.

    “Down and brace!” He shouted on instinct. He didn’t even notice the note of siren influence he threaded into the command.

Instantly, all of the sailors on deck dropped and braced against the rails.

    “John, Mary, Sam, Dean. Lock in. That’s a rogue rip, and a powerful one at that. We go full sail through it, we should be fine, but any less momentum and we’ll be swept along and dashed against the reefs a half-click north of here.” He snapped, recalling the wind from earlier and filling the sails.

Castiel noticed no movement behind him and whirled around to find the four of them staring at him.

    “There, you see the diagonal pattern of waves directly ahead? That signals a deepwater rip current. They’re rare, but very strong and very dangerous, and that one is immense. With enough momentum, we should be able to get through without being pushed too far north, but I need you to get down and brace. This’ll be a bumpy ride. I’ll man the wheel, you find a place where you’re not gonna be squished, so away from the crates.” He explained, pointing out the current.

    “Cas, you’re no older than Sam or Dean. I don’t want you to put yourself in danger, son.” John paced forward, resting a hand on Cas’s shoulder as Mary stepped back from the wheel.

    “I know these waters and their dangers like the back of my hand. If we end up grounded or sunk, the current will continue to sweep any shrapnel or survivors further into open water, maybe for miles, judging by the size of this one. Just let me get you all through this one. I’d never forgive myself if you or any of your crew were to get hurt.” Cas pleaded, gripping the wheel. “Please, John. Find a place to lock in. Let me take this one.”

The man relented with a nod, following his sons and wife down onto the main deck to brace with the rest of the crew.

Adjusting the angle of the bow, Castiel whistled, upping the strength of the wind. The sails snapped and rustled as it shifted to help the sleek schooner along.

Castiel planted his feet firmly as he felt the waters below the ship shift, and not a moment later, the rip plowed into the hull of the Impala, throwing her sideways with a roar.

Castiel gritted his teeth and spun the wheel, pointing the bow south at a sharper angle, the wind shifting to push the schooner through. Castiel felt a presence below the ship, and growled a string of enochian expletives. He urged the vessel faster, the intensity of the situation increasing with the wind whipping faster and the roar of the current becoming louder. A soft melody penetrated the noise, Cas spitting another string of profanity as he recognized it. A lure-song. A true one. Meant to draw sailors overboard. John stood first, peering over the rail as others stirred, shuffling toward the sound.

Castiel was panicking now, feeling his control of the crew faltering under the competition of the powerful lure-song.

    “Get down! Down and Brace!” He roared, throwing all of his influence into the command. He watched, frightened, as the sailors paused, torn. They stood, looking dazed, for an uncomfortably long time. 

Castiel felt his heart stop as he glimpsed who was singing, a cocky face with spiky blonde hair peeking out of the waves.

Castiel could feel the ship starting to come out of the current, but with his brother chanting such a powerful lure-song, he could lose the crew anyway.

_ “Lucifer. Release these sailors. They’re under my protection.” _ He projected to his brother, allowing a growl to slip into the message. He watched as the blonde siren’s icy eyes flicked to Castiel, standing strong and firm at the helm. A slow smirk spread across his face.

_ “Little brother, I only came to help. When you disappeared, father-dearest was so afraid. He thought these land-walkers had snatched you.” _ Lucifer sing-songed back, but his face clearly showed relief, features relaxing as he observed Castiel.  _ “You managed to fool these sailors. How? You are the  _ worst _ liar I’ve ever met.” _ Castiel called off the wind and allowed the ship to drift slowly towards her destination.

_ “I don’t lie. I simply don’t tell the whole truth. It’s worked beautifully so far.” _ Castiel couldn’t help the note of pride that rang in the projection.

_ “Brother dearest. One of your sailors just tossed himself overboard. I think you need to rescue him.” _ Lucifer commented, pointing to an irregular ripple in the water.


	2. Castiel's tail -- NOT A CHAPTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I drew this.  
> If you want to see my other art and stuff, go to my Instagram, @echo_artfart


	3. Dean is a Little Bit of a Scaredy-Cat

Cursing, Castiel sprinted to the deck rail and dove over it, tipping into an elegant swan-dive. He hit the water with a small splash and instantly felt himself transform, shirt and pants melting into his skin and tail.

He gave a couple powerful pumps of his tail, powering towards his brother, which he knew was where whoever had jumped ship would be going. That’s the purpose of lure-songs, after all.

The signature sound of a human heartbeat echoed through the water, alerting Castiel to how close he was. A couple strokes later, he could see the lanky form of Sam stroking solidly through the water, head breaking the surface periodically.

Another powerful pump of his tail brought him even with the youngest Winchester and he grabbed the lanky young man by the shoulders, surfacing so that he could breathe before flipping around and streaking back towards the ship.

As he reached the hull, Castiel shifted back and lifted himself and Sam out of the water, slinging the Winchester’s limp body over his shoulder and heaving himself up to the deck to the shouting of the crew, who must have snapped out of their stupor while he was gone.

    “Sammy!” Dean shouted hoarsely, rushing over as Cas flopped his brother down on the deck.

    “Dean, stay,” Castiel placed a palm flat on the bigger boy’s chest, fixing him with a commanding stare without any siren power behind it. It worked nevertheless, stopping the older Winchester in his tracks.

Cas knelt next to Sam’s prone form, pressing his fingers to the lanky boy’s sternum.

    “Breathe, Sam. Exhale the water in your lungs. Expel it,” He whispered, concentrating on pressing the command into the boy.

It took a moment, but Sam convulsed, choking and coughing up water as he rolled from his back to his chest and propped himself on his elbows as he coughed up seawater. A collective murmur of relief swept through the crew.

    “Sam, you were tossed over the deckrail by the current. I thought I told you to get down,” Cas gently chastised the younger Winchester as he helped him to his feet, deciding that wasn’t really a lie. He didn’t like to lie.

    “Sorry, Cas. I know I should have listened,” Sam murmured, just managing to finish before he was pulled into a rib-crushing hug by his older brother.

    “Don’t you  _ ever _ do that again. You scared me, Sammy,” Dean growled into his brother’s shoulder. He released Sam after a moment, before turning to Cas. “Thank you, Cas. I don’t know what I’d do if my little brother drowned.” Cas found himself being pulled into a - significantly gentler - hug. 

Castiel tensed for a moment, before relaxing into the older boy, placing his hands timidly on his shoulderblades. The muscles under Dean’s skin jumped and writhed as the older Winchester tightened his hold a little bit. 

    “And now you’re all wet again. Why can’t you just stay dry?” Dean griped, holding his arms out and looking down at himself, now soaked from hugging a pair of drenched boys.

Cas allowed one corner of his mouth to curl in a small smile.

    “Dean, take your brother belowdecks and make sure he dries and rests, and bundle him up warm. Sam, no arguing,” John spoke up, fixing his youngest with a stare that left no room for negotiation. Castiel unwrapped his ‘cloth’ from where it had reappeared around his waist, tying it back around his head in an attempt to contain his ever-disobedient hair. Thankfully the clothes he had borrowed from Dean had reappeared when he had shifted human(ish) again.

    “The rest of you, man your stations. We will be docking in fifteen minutes, so I need you and Baby to be prepared,” Mary commanded, voice ringing out solidly over the deck and snapping the sailors into action. Castiel shifted his weight, unsure of what to do with himself with everyone working around him like a well-oiled machine.

A hand on his shoulder stopped his thoughts, and he glanced up to see John gesturing at the sterncastle deck. 

    “You obviously know the way of the waters. Could you help guide us into port? Just to be sure we don’t run into another - what did you call it? - Rogue rip?” His weathered face was creased in a kind smile.

Castiel furrowed his brows. He had never expected to be greeted with such hospitality by these hardened sailors.

    “I-I don’t understand. Why?”

John’s eyebrows knit, and he turns more fully towards the young man.

    “What don’t you understand, son?” The co-captain’s voice was quiet and sincere.

Cas looked at his feet and mumbled under his breath:

    “Why do you want me to help you?”

    “You’ll have to speak louder if you want me to hear you,” John placed a rough-calloused hand under Cas’s chin and lifted his face so he had no choice but to look at the eldest Winchester.

    “Why would you want me to help you?” Cas said, a little louder this time so that John could hear him.

John’s eyebrows knitted further, working his jaw in a way that made it very obvious that Sam and Dean were his sons.

    “Cas, you just saved my son - and possibly my entire crew - from a pretty unpleasant death. Why wouldn’t I want you to help us?”

    “Because you don’t know me. Why would you trust someone you don’t know?”

    “You’re talkin’ in circles, son,” John shook his head, still smiling. “Come with me.” A big, calloused hand motioned for Castiel to follow him.

Timid, he did as asked, following the weathered co-captain up to the wheel, where he stood behind his wife and laid a hand on one of her slim, proud shoulders.

    “How did you learn to sail, Cas?” Mary asked, not looking over her shoulder.

Cas shifted. He could hear both Mary and John’s heartbeats. Smooth and steady and - surprisingly - exactly in sync. The sirens told of those whose hearts beat in sync. They were true heart-bonds. Heart-bonds were rare among the finfolk, and humans rarely knew if their hearts beat as one. They called their version of a heart-bond a soulmate. They had a much less final way of telling if they had found their soulmate. They based their soulmates on feeling and cooperation instead of a more concrete way like synced heartbeats or changed fins. It helps that finfolk can  _ hear _ heartbeats.

    “My family is full of seafolk. It’s part of the family trade to know how to sail,” Cas replied, listening to their conjoined heartbeats with a soft smile on his face.

    “Fond memories?” Mary had turned to look at him and was observing his face with a kind smile of her own.

    “My family is blessed with incredible hearing. I can hear you and your husband’s hearts. They beat as one,” He decided to tell the (mostly) whole truth this time. “We call those heart-bonds. They’re very rare where I come from.”

John went very quiet, rubbing a calloused thumb up the side of his wife’s neck to her pulse point. Cas heard the quiet inhale when he found it and located his own.

    “You’re right. That’s incredible,” He murmured, brown eyes sparkling.

Cas reveled in the quiet moment before turning to John as he lowered his hand slowly, almost reverentially.

    “What would you like me to do?” He asked when John had shaken himself out of his almost-trance.

John turned to him with a wink.

    “Dean’s afraid of the crow’s nest. Could you climb up and serve to keep an eye on the waters? He refuses to do so,” John’s eyes twinkled with mirth.

Cas’ mouth twitched as he tried to imagine John Winchester’s oldest son frightened of anything.

    “Yes, sir,” Cas replied, touching a finger to his forehead in a salute, a ghost of a smile playing about his lips.

Placated - and a little amused - Cas scampered easily up the rigging to the crow’s nest, wobbling slightly as a strong gust of wind blew past.

Castiel knew the sea. He knew it better than any creature he had ever met. Not even his familial pack had traveled as far and wide as he had, preferring to keep to their cut-and-dried hunting grounds. Even with this extensive familiarity with his home, the view from the crow’s nest took his breath away. In all directions, the sea extended like a great cloth stretched over a loom, as powerful and all-encompassing as life itself. Castiel watched a pod of Dolphins riding the tide as they chased a bait-ball, whistling and trilling to each other in a language far more complex than the languages of men. Castiel recognized the chirp of a calf calling for its mother, and the rapid-fire clicking commands from the pod leader as she directed the hunt. This pod was one of the most successful of the ones Castiel had hunted with. The alpha female was young, but experienced and wise, conducting her pod’s hunts and movements like a practiced orchestral performance, with every member playing their part seamlessly.

It was frustrating to Castiel that even as joyous and cheerful as the dolphins themselves were, the sight of them made his chest ache. His older brother - Gabriel - had earned a dolphin tail in his final Arch-siren trial, and soon after, disappeared without a trace. Castiel had been very close to his older brother before he disappeared and thus was heartbroken to find him gone.

    “Any impairments to docking, Cas?” Mary called up, adjusting the helm.

Cas shook himself out of his memories and responded.

    “No, ma’am. Clear to dock,” He called back.

Mary nodded and turned to Dean, who had just emerged from the hold in fresh clothes.

    “Dean, go back belowdecks and stay with your brother. We’ll be docking soon and I don’t want him sneaking up to help while he’s still recovering.” Dean nodded and turned on his heel, disappearing once more belowdecks. “Draw sails!” She barked, “Prepare to dock!”

The crew jumped into action at her command.


End file.
